Mara's Light: Huntress, prey
by Ryu Niiyama
Summary: The first taste is the most intense. There is no place in a warrior's heart for love. For Aela the Huntress, moonborn daughter of Whiterun these two adages were everything. Can an outsider offer her more in life than her woods and her hunts? Mara's light will teach the Huntress the true meaning of pack.


Mara's Light: Huntress, prey

By Ryu Niiyama

Paring: Aela/Female Dragonborn

Because this is dealing with certain characters being werewolves (and mer) there are some inhuman behaviors and reactions, but I try not to take it to a weird level.

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The first taste is the most intense. That was a belief that Aela the Huntress held to her very core. Nothing could surpass the first…the first time she notched a bow, her first kill, the first time she fell in love. The latter came much later than she would have expected in life. She'd only cared for the woods, her prey and her pack…the thought of a mate had never been something she contemplated. Love…love only made the strong weak. Love had destroyed her mother…had put asunder her family before it even began. She had vowed long in her heart that she would never fall prey to Mara's deceptions. For a time her pack and the hunt were enough.

Yet she found herself drawn the newest whelp come to prove fire and her honor. It was rare for one of Mer blood to grace the ranks of the Companions, but Aela cared not for the race of her Shield Siblings; only the might of their heart. She should have suspected that her solitary heart had been roused from its slumber the moment the Mer had struck the final blow upon the Giant that tormented the farmlands near Whiterun. The wolf within watched with interest as the new blood bested both of the Twins with ease. Burgeoning curiosity flared to restless intrigue as she watched the whelp prove her worth with humility and honor.

They talked and trained together and she came to admire her strength and clever wit. Her Shield Sister was a warrior and a forgemistress and her armor was practical and protecting, yet a part of her longed to see the form that wore such heavy armor with ease and grace. In time the days that her Shield Sister was absent from the mead hall were a torment, yet no amount of hunting either by bow or by claw could soothe her restless spirit. Her laugh was a balm upon her restless soul and she longed to pull her close and bury herself in her sweet scent and to present her heart and her body to the one that lit such a fire within her spirit.

Skor had come to her with the offering, but this time she wanted to be the forebear. She had never done so yet it seemed so vital, so absolutely necessary that _she_ be the one to awaken her Shield Sister. Unlike the rest of the Circle, she had been born to the blood. Both mother and father had been blessed by Hircine. Her father kept to the woods and her mother had died when she was a pup, her loss hardening Aela's heart. Yet as Aela watched her Shield Sister enter the Underforge, unaware yet trusting of her shield siblings, all she could feel was pride…and hunger.

Skor explained their intent, but she was beyond hearing. With the senses of the wolf she scented the whelp she longed to bind to her in blood. She expected fear or revulsion …yet there was only curiosity. But her shield sister was no fool, she questioned Skor to find the truth of his words and in turn cast warm hazel eyes to her to judge her heart. Their gazes met and held, and for the first time in her life Aela felt the urge to submit to a feeling more powerful than herself. Yet before she could whimper or turn away she felt a warm hand upon her muzzle, mindful of her teeth, yet unafraid.

"Aela, it _is_ you."

She cursed the damnable mask that her shield sister always chose to wear and she realized that she'd never seen the other woman's face. Due to the evening chill she now wore a hood that hid her raven's wing hair from view. She swallowed down the snarl at the thought. She no longer wanted this ritual, where Skor could see her Shield Sister revealed. She longed for the turning of old, the Wolf's Dance; the time that a wolf would choose her mate and run with her through the woods with only Hircine's gaze upon them. She ached to tear away the mask and clothing that separated her from the truth of her beloved; she yearned to nip at her heels gently, with her heart light with her love. She burned for the moment she caught her beloved one, when she would share blood and body and they would be bound forever.

Skor began to speak again and she had to fight against the urge to shield her shield sister from his gaze, to challenge him for daring to invade that which was only meant for her and her beloved to share. Yet before she could she remembered herself, this was not a mating bond. Her shield sister would be offered the blood and a place within the pack and nothing more; both the woman and wolf howled at the wrongness of this, but she forced her body to remain inert. She couldn't let Skor know of her desire until she knew his intentions towards her. Her clever shield sister nodded, agreeing to the ritual and Aela felt her heart leap even as she forced herself to let out a gruff snuffle in response.

Skor reached out and grasped her arm and for the first time since she'd known him, she felt revulsion at his touch. The elder wolf seemed to be aware of a change in the atmosphere and he moved quickly, keeping his touch light as he slit Aela's forearm. She held her shield sister's amber gaze, the pain barely a pinprick, even though it warmed her heart seeing her shield sister flinch in concerned empathy. Skor beckoned her to drink, but she moved towards Aela instead, holding out hands pulsing with healing magic. She pushed her fingers though a russet pelt and Aela let out a purring growl at the feel of that gentle healing touch. She could feel Skor's burning, curious eyes on her back before he shuffled away slightly, giving Aela some space and acknowledging what she was desperately trying to fight.

Once she'd been healed to her shield sister's satisfaction, Aela watched her move to the offering bowl and pull down her mask and hood. As her face was completely revealed, the werewolf clenched her teeth in an attempt to school her features. Their eyes met briefly and Aela locked every muscle in her now overcharged form, to keep herself from flinging her body across the sparse distance between them and taking her into her arms. Skor began speaking again, his tone sharp and grating, but Aela knew he was trying to force her to remain focused. Yet she was beyond caring what he thought, she let out a low moan as she watch her shield sister take in _her_ blood and _her_ gift to begin the awakening. Losing herself, she licked her wickedly sharp maw as she watched the fever overtake her shield sister as the manmeri woman began to frantically remove her armor.

Aela moved forward, in part to shield her transforming shield sister from Skor's gaze but also to ease her though the transformation. Helpless, feverish hazel eyes met hers briefly and Aela realized quickly that her shield sister had run out of time. Sheathing her claws, Aela reached out and stroked arms that were rapidly elongating and growing even thicker with muscle, pulling away the rags of her jerkin as it split and tore. If this were a mating change Aela would touch her more intimately, knowing instinctively that sexual release would ease the pain and mounting tension in her body. The werewolf had to fight the urge to cover her shield sister's rapidly changing body with her own and ease through her first transformation properly.

"AELA!"

Skor's shout was a reminder and Aela struggled with the instinct to challenge him and to claim what was hers, even as she tried to remember that this gift was merely to make her shield sister one of the pack. Still she kept her eyes on the manmeri's changing form, roaming over a body that was strong and desirable. Her shield sister let out a scream that ascended to a roar before she slumped unconscious into Aela's arms. Aela allowed herself a small indulgence as she nuzzled her face into warm, silken raven fur, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

She had never felt this way before, she'd never been so consumed with the need to hunt and mate and a part of her mourned the fact that she couldn't claim her beloved properly. She felt her shield sister begin to stir and she swooned slightly at the feel of her powerful, corded muscle rippling and twitching as she came back alive. Roaring with the power of the Thu'um behind it, the whelp werewolf pushed away from Aela, easily breaking her hold and moving away. Aela thought she would rush towards the entrance, but of course her clever shield sister had noticed the back exit. Not even sparing the elder weres another glance, the newly turned whelp ran through the secret exit. Growling with excitement for the chase, Aela moved to follow, but paused when she felt Skor's rough hands upon her arm.

The elder wolf raised his hands in a placating manner immediately and took several steps back to show that he was no threat. "Remember, this is not a mating hunt, Aela. She is a pack mate, nothing more." The words stung and Aela whined in response, but she nodded gruffly all the same. She had to swallow her love and desire, her shield sister was confused and thrumming with a power that even her nature as the Dragonborn would not prepare her for. She didn't need a wolf half addled with lust and longing, she needed a forebear and a guide.

Not sparing Skor another glance, the Huntress exited the underforge in search of her Shield sister. Her clever shield sister had been elusive prey, only the fresh quickly eaten carcasses of several deer and a few bandits gave the seasoned Huntress any clue as to where here shield sister had gone. Good, the other female was showing that she was more than worthy of the blood. Aela inched forward into a wooded clearing, low to the ground, mildly annoyed that her shield sister had forced her to be so cautious and yet wildly exhilarated by the chase.

She had no time to react as the slightest rustle from the trees up above gave notice that she was not alone as a sturdy, muscular form slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. She expected bestial flailing, but not the well placed punches that smashed into her maw, dizzying her. Snarling, Aela tucked her feet underneath her shield sister and kicked off, tossing the slightly larger werewolf from her body. She should have anticipated this; the blood accentuates the natural traits of the bearer. Her shield sister was of Altmer decent but she was obviously mixed, her swarthy skin and athletic, powerful form not traits known to the willowy, golden mer. In this form her strength was increased ten-fold and it would seem that her Shield Sister knew more than just the ways of the blade and the shield as she lunged again, easily grappling with Aela.

Aela struggled back mightily, concern fading under the weight of battle lust and fierce arousal. Yet the intensity of her desire, and the sensitivity of the senses conveyed by the blood would give her a shallow victory. She watched as her shield sister paused, scenting the air, confused by the change in atmosphere. If this was anything other than a gift for a fellow companion Aela -headstrong, alpha, unmated- Aela the Huntress would have presented to such a beautiful and clever equal. Her wolf howled in mourning, devastated that they would not be able to claim this wondrous female as her mate but she had to subdue her Shield Sister before she hurt herself…or Aela.

Using her Shield Sister's distraction to her advantage, the huntress tackled the other wolfblood to the ground and bludgeoned her temple with both of her clenched fists. She hated to be so forceful, and her shield sister would have an oblivion of a headache when she woke, but she needed to knock her out quickly before she regained the upper hand. Howling piteously as her prey went limp after a brief struggle, Aela leaned forward and licked the blood that was now seeping from the grazing of her talons during impact. The Huntress let out a pained growl at the taste and she swore to herself that after the initiation of her shield sister she would court her properly. The thought of the passion that she'd shown in hunting and in battle transferred in full to mating almost made the Huntress forget herself.

Yet it was more than her beauty and her strength, Aela cursed her lack of tact and flowery words. Her shield sister had taken to their pack with warmth and honor. She was a brilliant tactician and mage, yet she had no qualms wading head first into battle with swords drawn. The Huntress let out a chuffing laugh as she remembered that her shield sister was an odd archer; at first glance she seemed ill-suited to the bow, something that broke Aela's heart at first, yet as she watched her move she realized that her Shield Sister maintained the old ways of her Altmer heritage. She'd only seen the massive long bow once be used but she'd watched the other female fell a giant 200 paces away by arcing her shot which split the beast's skull in twain.

Aela was a simple, earnest woman. There were many things about her Shield Sister that she'd found attractive and compelling, even then when she was without the knowledge of what her face looked like. Yet it was in that moment that she'd realized that she stood in the presence of a master archer that Aela knew she'd lost her heart. Yet she was not a learned woman; she couldn't write poetry and sonnets to make her Shield Sister swoon. She understood stratagems but she couldn't play a game of Jarl's Warriors and debate the philosophy of war and life. The other female was a smith of great renown so she couldn't gift her with weapons or armor to show her affection. The werewolf shook her great russet head, feeling the tale-tale burning of impending tears at her inability to capture her Shield Sister's affection and regard.

Yet surely tonight meant something… to both of them. Her Shield Sister- Nadira-, had been concerned at the wound needed to give the gift of blood taking the time to heal her before going any further. She remembered those clear amber eyes meeting hers before she took in her blood. Aela moaned at the memory; that one wondrous moment where her Shield Sister had held her gaze, her beautiful face panted red with Aela's blood. Surely that meant that Nadira had felt the same pull…surely that meant that Aela could still prove herself worthy? Hefting the unconscious werewolf's body over her shoulders, Aela began the trek to Gallow's Rock where her beloved Shield Sister would take her rightful place, to claim a true seat within the circle.

Skor said nothing as she carefully lay her burden down upon a bed of ferns. Merely dropping a pack with her Shield sister's gear and weapons the elder wolf transformed quickly, moving to scout ahead. Aela crouched next to her still unconscious Shield Sister, checking her wounds as well as she could with her clawed hands praying to Hircine that she didn't do too much damage. She held on to her transformation until her Shield Sister's broke, her control effortless due to her heritage as a natural werewolf. Unlike a young whelp and thanks in part to the werewolf state being divine in nature, Aela had the ability to keep her clothes and she noticed that Skor had dropped her bow, shield and dagger nearby. Quickly, Aela gathered her weapons and girded herself with them before turning her gaze to her still unconscious pack mate. The Huntress flushed fiercely enough to match her hair as she took in her Shield Sister's nude form.

By the Great Hunt, the other female was beautiful. Powerfully muscled yet elegantly proportioned, she had the body of a dancer and a warrior in one. At quick glance, Aela noted that her Shield Sister's armor had done a fantastic job of hiding full breasts and shapely, powerful hips and legs. Yet Aela forced her gaze to become somewhat analytical as she noted the slight differences between a human female and a Mer female body. How did one go about love play with a Mer? At least with a human woman, having the same form meant that Aela didn't have to guess too much to know what would please her lover. Yet Aela didn't find her desire for the unconscious woman dimmed in the slightest. She'd likely have to swallow her pride and ask Irileth for some guidance, but she at least hoped that should she be successful in courting her Shield Sister she would be able to please her well in the bedchambers.

Not wanting to take advantage of her Shield Sister's vulnerable state, Aela moved to the pack that contained the other female's things. Skor was a considerate man, but he was a man all the same and left to his own devices he might not have packed everything her Shield Sister would have needed. Although this looked to be Nadira's own pack as she carefully picked through the contents, happy to see a spare jerkin and trousers as well as under clothes. Feeling around Aela found a length of cloth, much like that of the hoods that the Redguards wore. Perhaps that was the other side of the manmeri's heritage? That would surely explain the skin tone and the raven's wing hair that fell in loose ringlets to her shoulders. There was an amulet of Talos…yet it didn't look exactly like the ones gifted by the priests as well as wrist beads of the RaGada and a small vial filled with what seemed to be ashes. Aela was pleased that Talos guarded her path; Aela didn't believe that one had to be a Nord to know Talos's touch. After all the Champion of Kavach had been an Altmer and it was said that she'd handled Tiber Septim's armor itself.

Not wanting to intrude further, Aela replaced the items that she'd found only to have two rings fall from the pack and into the snow. Intent on protecting her beloved pack mate's belongings, Aela recovered the two items and looked them over before she moved to return them to the pack. Yet recognition of the items made her pause and tears began to well in her ice blue eyes at the sight. One ring was enough to make her heart treble with reverence and joy…the Ring of Hircine. Her amazing pack mate had been blessed by the Huntsmaster himself. Aela was a devout servant of the Hunter and the thought that he had touched the woman she yearned to be bound to body and soul made her feel as if she was on her first hunt all over again.

Yet the other item nearly dashed any euphoria she'd felt at knowing that her beloved was blessed by Hircine. The second ring wasn't recognizable so much as it was familiar. She knew that her shield sister hailed from Cyrodil and that they gave rings as a token of their affection and vows of lifelong love. While the Amulet of Mara was still a much used Skyrim custom, the ring of matrimony in recent generations replaced the wedding torc in an import of culture from Bruma. This was a ring of matrimony, created for a beloved with care and affection. She looked upon the surface of the white gold and ebony ring, seeing the crest of her Shield Sister as well as another that she didn't recognize. Being of Altmer blood, Nadira had large but fine-boned hands, but this ring looked too large even for her hands.

Had she left behind a wife back in the Empire? Did some nameless woman carry the ring that fit her pack mate's delicate hands? Yet she remembered that Nadira never wore the ring, not even around her neck as a token, instead it was woven into her thick locks to pull back the twin braids on either side of her temples. A ring that she kept on her person at all times, but didn't wear as a spouse or soldier did. Yet Nadira didn't act like a wayward unfaithful lover, attempting to hide vows made in trust and honor. No…there was only one explanation for such actions and Aela nearly retched up her last meal at the realization. The other female was in mourning.

How long had it been? Was that why she came to Skyrim? Was that why she blushed at the many (to Aela's great dismay) advances of several of the women of Whiterun and yet she did nothing in response? Was her heart now closed such that even Aela couldn't breach her walls? A pained groan broke the frenzied spiral the huntress was descending into and Aela quickly replaced the rings as she moved back from her Shield Sister. Distracted but determined, the russet haired huntress helped her confused Shield Sister prepare for the final part of her initiation. The assault into Gallow's Rock had been a blur for Aela; she wanted to marvel at the battle prowess of her Shield Sister, but all she could think of was the token of love lost. When they found Krev the Skinner, Aela drowned in her grief.

They avenged Skor, but the wolf within wouldn't let her heart know peace. She lost her closest friend and her intended mate all in one horrible night; the gift of blood had become a nightmare. Furious, Aela gleaned every morsel she could about their prey, warning the Twins in no short terms how _displeased_ she would be if they attempted to petition for her Shield Sister's time. Aela pushed her Shield Sister into battle, stoking their shared hatred of the Silver Hand, yet the wolf howled and snarled and raged, its loss unable to be soothed.

A part of Aela was saddened that her grief for Skor passed somewhat quickly. He'd died within the hunt, something that he would have been grateful for, so she didn't mourn his loss as greatly as the others assumed. Yet she could not sleep, she could not eat, and even hunting had lost its splendor. She felt Kodlak's eyes upon her constantly, but the Old Man allowed her to keep her counsel. Yet he must have seen some weakness, some pattern in Aela's actions because he took command of her Shield Sister while she'd been out hunting…wandering and mourning what she'd never have.

Kodlak's mission nearly broke Aela. That and the hope she saw dawning within the Twin's eyes. The Old Man had sent her clever Shield Sister out to find a way to destroy the wolf. They would leave her…all of them and she would be alone. There was nothing a wolf feared more than being alone. Pack was everything…and now it was fading and she couldn't do anything to stop it. Aela let loose a morose chuckle, she was not so different from her mother after all. Love would destroy her just as easily as it did her mother.

She was not a woman of strong drink, but even a pint of mead or port would help chase away the specters of her loss for a time while she waited upon her Shield Sister's return. It was only the fact that she'd been pacing in the courtyard that they'd had any warning at all. The Silver Hand returned in force scaling the walls, rushing the gates and killing many of the guard in the quest to end the Circle. The Companions earned their name on this black night, but Aela could feel no pride. Not when the Old Man- Kodlak- met his end upon the blade of one of those cowards. To add to her grief and fury, Nadira returned not even an hour after the ill-fated assault, pack full of witches heads. Aela wanted to rage, she wanted to vent her anger for the loss of Skor and Kodlak, for the destruction of the dream of a mate to share her hunts with, for the destruction of her pack. Yet she could do none of that as her Shield Sister touched her arm briefly in shared pain, before moving to heal those that remained alive.

Even the wolf could not be angry at such compassion, such strength, so she said nothing when the Twins prattled on about "freeing" Kodlak from being moonborn. Yet she could not deny his last dream….he wanted it so he should have it and Aela wouldn't stand in the way of that. She bristled as Eorland handed Wuthrad to her Shield Sister, ready to punch the old fool of a smith in the nose for his rudeness. Had he not noticed that Nadira was at least in part Altmer? Why would he bequeath the weapon used to fell so many of her kin as if she were a Nord? How could he be so stupid as to glory in the bloodied history between Nord and Mer, yet expect a Mer to act as if her own heritage wasn't being spat upon? Yet her Shield Sister bore it well, but Aela could see the squaring of her shoulders and the shift in the mask that meant her lips were pressed into a hard line. She could only hope that the Old Man appreciated what the Dragonborn was doing for his sake.

The journey to Ysgramor's Tomb was a quiet one, with each member of the Companions lost in their thoughts and grief. Yet her Shield Sister forged on, taking lead when the others wavered guiding them in battle, yet mindful of their compromised states. Aela wanted to be proud, but she knew such prowess was not due to anything that she'd done so she held her pride as she did her grief and her anger...locked within her heart where the wolf would gnaw on it like a bone.

Aela wanted to feel reverence here in the resting place of her forebears, but all she could feel was sorrow; sorrow for disturbing the dead, sorrow for asking her Mer blooded pack mate to come here and sorrow that even in death Kodlak's need to undo pack would come to pass. They battled through ghost and beast alike, the Twins falling away until at last only she and the Dragonborn stood proudly outside the chamber where Ysgramor lay in his slumber. Concerned amber eyes met her pensive gaze as a strong, warm hand squeezed her shoulder in comfort. If her heart had been lighter she would have nuzzled against her Shield Sister's neck briefly, but she knew that wasn't her place. Not when she saw the familiar ring within her silken raven locks.

Always the brave one, the Dragonborn headed in first, but before Aela could follow, a great metal gate slammed down with a snap. Confused and afraid, Aela tried blade and arm fortified by shield to make the trap give way, yet it would not yield. Frantic and worried not only of what her Shield Sister might face, but also how she might be tempted, Aela let the blood wash over her. In her form of glory she beat and pulled and rammed, but the gate was designed to bear a werewolf's strength. How could that be when Ysgramor went to rest as a mortal and not a vanguard of the Hunt?

Still, Aela was a Huntress and an archer as well so she knew the value of patience. Her heightened senses could hear the confrontation and the decree of Kodlak. When the Old Man proclaimed her worthy to be the True Alpha of their pack, Aela was pleased and yet the wolf howled and snarled and struggled. She knew why: If her Shield Sister had been a female highly desired now, with the mantle of Harbinger she would be like a beacon of Dibelia to others. The wolf snarled, determined to be the one to stand by her Harbinger's side, but she reminded her fierce heart of the impossible task that would be. She could overcome flesh and bone, but a ghost willingly cherished? She didn't know if she was strong enough for that.

The gate opened and Aela rushed forward, changing back mid-stride, scenting the air. She nearly stumbled in her joy, knowing that despite the chance presented, her Harbinger remained moonborn. She had not rejected Aela's blood and protection. Weary yet triumphant, they collected the Twins and began the long trek back to Whiterun. Aela worried and her gaze rarely left her Harbinger's tense, pensive form for the entire arduous journey. Knowing her place now was as her Harbinger's lieutenant she did what she could to ease some of her burden. When they stopped in DawnStar for rest and supplies (and after her Harbinger had rid the city of Vermina's curse) Aela sent word to Jorrvaskr of their success and to have the room of the Harbinger prepared. Still, despite the sad nature of their quest, Aela had been delighted to spend so much time by her Harbinger's side. The twins mostly communed together so it made it easy for Aela to observe and assist her. She suspected the protective aura her wolf was exuding was also the reason that the Twins found it prudent to tend to their own needs together.

When they returned to Whiterun, the Companions feasted and drank to their new welcomed leader and when her Harbinger slipped away as Aela knew she would, she found a new bed and her meager belongings within the Harbinger's room. Aela had trailed her as she left the party, in part to get some air and she let out a sigh of relief as weary, but pleased amber eyes held hers briefly before disappearing behind closed doors. Hours later, Aela wandered into the courtyard, restless and yearning and she wasn't surprised to see her Harbinger laying in the grass and looking up at the stars. Aela hesitated at first, not wanting the disturb her, but she was still a headstrong woman and she had to offer what comfort she could. Carefully and slowly to give her Harbinger time to refuse her company, the Huntress sat down next to her. Close enough that she could feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn't invade her personal space.

They sat that way in silence for nearly a candlemark, then with her warm voice mellowed slightly from lack of use her Harbinger removed her mask and spoke. The Harbinger spoke of her journeys and asked Aela about hers; she spoke of their fighting skills and finally in the small hours of the morning she spoke of Chorrol. The details were scarce, but the way she described the city made Aela feel like she was there. Her Harbinger fell asleep with her head against Aela's shoulder and the wolf preened and whimpered in longing. Not wanting the older woman to catch a chill, Aela lifted her into her arms and carried her into her room, grateful for the strength of her blood and her training.

She removed her Harbinger's boots and lay her upon the downy bed. The Huntress wrestled with the wolf briefly as the desire to curl up next to the one her heart had chosen had been strong. Yet she was a woman of honor and she would not go where she was not called. Feeling calmer than before, Aela the Huntress had the most peaceful sleep she'd had in a fortnight; dreaming of chasing a wolf with a pelt of raven's wing.

The next few weeks passed in a flash. The winds of change within the Companions had been heard throughout Whiterun hold and the Companions had been in greater demand than ever. The Harbinger didn't interfere with much of the daily dealings of things, but she took to training the whelps and fostering a change of morale. In addition to her own duties, her Harbinger began to aid Whiterun hold on her own and when a dragon attacked Whiterun again, she finally accepted the title of Thane.

Aela bristled at the sight of Lydia of Whiterun being assigned as her appointed housecarl, primarily because she knew how the housecarl felt about Mer. She tried not to sigh as the young hothead proved her right and was quietly banished because of it. Still, that meant that her Harbinger would spend more time in the halls of the Companions and more time hunting by moonlight with her in forms of glory. She guided and trained her Harbinger in the use of her wolf as well as teaching her to use the shortbow more effectively. Aela flushed at the thought. The feeling of being pressed against the back of her Harbinger as she adjusted her draw or the rush of running with her under the twin gazes of the moons as they hunted for the meadhall made her blood sing with joy. Yet the wolf was frustrated and annoyed that she didn't tell her Harbinger the truth. Her Harbinger's fame and titles spread as she aided more and more holds and Aela was at the point that she was turning away whelps that wanted to join the Companions merely to have the chance to bask in her Harbinger's glory.

Still, she was happy to count herself among her Harbinger's Trusted as she was one of the few that she removed her mask around within the walls of their rooms. They passed their nights often talking, with her Harbinger telling her of some of her past or the things she'd discovered in the halls of the College of Winterhold. Aela had no aptitude for such learning, but she didn't scoff at it the way many of her kinsmen would. From learned women and men came the cities they lived in, the laws that protected them and a greater understanding of the world around them. Aela was content to merely listen to the joy that infused her Harbinger's voice as she spoke of her scholarly pursuits.

Yet her Harbinger's kind heart nearly tore the two of them asunder. It had taken time but Aela had come to trust her Harbinger enough to ask her to aid her in finding the Totems of Hircene. Her Harbinger didn't revere the Huntsman, but she was one of his Chosen and Aela knew if anyone could help her it would be her. It had taken several weeks, but she had been given the relics of the Hunter and the wolf tugged at her insistently now, demanding that she at least try to court her secret beloved. Yet the fear of rejection made Aela's tongue thick and clumsy and she could only keep her own counsel as her affection grew.

Her Harbinger left with the Twins on a journey and lighthearted as she had been and busy with keeping the whelps in line, Aela had suspected nothing. Yet when the Twins returned, the scent of the wolf burned away, Aela only felt grief and betrayal. Why? Why had their very Alpha destroyed their pack? Was it not enough to lose Skor and the Old Man? Was this her aim all along? To destroy them from within? Her observant betrayer noticed the cooling of their bond and confronted her for it. The wolf howled both mournful and yearning and she finally understood the ploy of her betrayer. She came to them with a stout heart and gentle words, lulling them into complacency even as she steadily culled their number. Aela had nearly fallen for it as well, longing for such a snake to be her mate. She built a wall around her heart not caring how it hurt the betrayer and as she hunted alone one night she found herself being tackled by that familiar form once again.

They battled by the moonlight and Aela's outrage made her strong. She roared out her pain, yet the wolf was torn by this love that she could not purge and her fear of being alone with no pack. Arousal and anger warred for dominance and finally her treacherous Alpha lay limp beneath her in submission, refusing to fight a beast out of her mind with grief. The compassionate yet determined gesture struck Aela like a dash of cold water and both she and the wolf realized their folly. She could not force the wolf on those that would not have it and like any good Alpha, her Harbinger did what was best for the pack as a whole. As her second, Aela should have seen that, should have supported that rather than perceiving every action as a personal slight. Even worse she had raised claw and fang against the one she loved. Humiliated and beset by grief anew, Aela disappeared into the woods, her skill allowing her to elude her Harbinger.

She'd failed…this weak spirit of hers was the true reason that she could never wear the Amulet of Mara for her love or why she would never see it around her beloved's neck as well. She would never chase her in the Wolf's Dance, she would never lay with her in love play or in sleep's embrace. Her restless heart would never know peace now, for she had broken the bonds of trust. Who would want a mate that they would fear feeling their fangs at their throat at any time? Aela was not an alpha of cruelty, she was a protector a huntress and she showed her strength with just will and a kind heart. Yet she'd betrayed herself and her beating heart that was her wolf. Aela was a daughter of the forest, so it had been easy to lose herself in the wolf for a time and hunt and live underneath Kyne's bounty. Yet her wolf was no coward…not anymore and it tugged at her, demanding that she return home. When she finally had the strength to return to Whiterun, it was to smoke and fire and destruction. Yet it was not the dragons that laid siege to her home, instead Ulfric the Kingkiller had sent his puppet army to attack.

The Heroine of Whiterun was celebrated for her hand in rebuffing the stormcloak army and aiding in the recovery effort. Yet she had not won the battle unscathed. Aela returned to Jorrvaskr only to find her Harbinger slumped over in a chair in her room weak with fever. Frantic, Aela carried the other woman to the Harbinger's room and laid her upon her bed before summoning Danica to aid her. Had the situation been less dire, she would have been shocked to see Lydia, contrite and burning with the passion of a changed heart in tow. Apparently her feud with her Harbinger had left the other female less mindful of her own health. Despite being a powerful healer, she'd let a wound sustained in battle fester and even before the stormcloak darkened Whiterun's door she'd only slept and ate sporadically, pushing herself to take on more tasks in Aela's absence.

Shamed and fearful, Aela played the fretful nursemaid easily, only matched by Lydia. They'd moved the Harbinger into her home of Breezehome, knowing that would be better than having her make the journey to her manor in Faulkreath hold. Aela suspected it was the constant letters that Lydia sent that kept the housecarl of that manor from storming Whiterun to collect her Thane. It took time, but her Harbinger recovered fully and the wolf finally was able to relax. Aela redoubled her efforts as her Harbinger's lieutenant, determined to never be found lacking again.

Her Harbinger looked as if she had the weight of the world upon her shoulders, and given her role as the Dragonborn, Aela supposed that she did. Her wolf never stopped howling for the love and affection of her beloved, but they had made a truce of sorts. Her wolf would leave her less heartsick so long as she worked herself to exhaustion to the betterment of the Companions and protection of her Harbinger. In time their pack grew again, warriors from Solstheim already steeped in the blood joined their ranks and Aela felt she had purpose once again. Her pack had changed and grown but even without the blood, Aela finally understood that she had not been left to hunt alone. Yet no amount of work, hunting or training with the whelps could match they bittersweet joy of hunting with her Harbinger by moonlight.

Aela thought she'd hid her feelings well, thought that while she couldn't silence her wolf, she could distract the focused ache that beat in time with her rushing blood. Yet one evening found Aela indulging in a hunt alone, howling in mourning for what could never be, when a familiar raven's wing pelt bounded up to take a quiet seat next to her. They said nothing for a time, merely content to watch the moons, before her Harbinger lost control of her transformation. Aela was both grateful and dismayed to see that she'd learned how to keep her clothes now. With a sigh, Aela let the blood go dormant and her Harbinger turned to her. She reached out with reverent but sure hands to stroke about Aela's hair and face and shoulders and down her flank, easily grasping her hands and the Huntress sighed at the unusual ministrations. It was only when her Harbinger began to speak that she understood why.

Her Harbinger spoke with halting, pained words of the extent of her loss. She was older than Aela had realized, having been in her second decade during the Great War. It was then that loss became her greatest companion. First her intended, lost in the field of battle, her grief so severe that it left her mute for several years, and then her parents and closest family at the hands of the Thalmor. She could feel the fear radiating off of the wolf within her Harbinger's stout heart and Aela in that moment chose to be her succor. She pulled her Harbinger into her embrace and forced the change upon them both. It was a rare and secret skill that a Forbear could awaken the blood of those she'd turned. Aela asked for nothing accept the comfort that only the wolf, that only being stripped down to one's truest self would bring. She held the dark pelted wolf close and licked at her tears, while growling in a soothing fashion to coax forth her Harbinger's healing.

Morning found them curled up together and as her Harbinger blushingly returned to her manmeri from and though Aela merely meant it as a comfort, they shared their first kiss as the dawn's light washed over them. The wolf within leapt and danced and swooned, but Aela would take no more than could be given as she led her Harbinger back to Whiterun. The war escalated further and her Harbinger went back to the battlefield and for a moment Aela feared that she would suffer the fate that her Harbinger had once endured. To find her beloved broken and life spent after dying for a war not of her making and a cause that was not truly in the interest of any, save the politicians.

Aela managed the Companions and sent letters to her Harbinger when it was safe and she noticed a slight change in her mannerisms. She might not have been a woman of flowing, bardic prose but it would seem that her Harbinger had been, for Aela found herself blushing for the first time at the words of a lover. She'd known women in love play, but never had she loved with all her heart and never had she been courted so deliberately. Aela found herself existing just to read a new letter even as she prayed to Hircine for her Harbinger's safe return. Aela found the courage to question Irileth, who was good natured enough to answer her questions without teasing. If this courtship was going in the direction that Aela believed and prayed that it would, the she would be prepared to show her physical devotion.

When the war ended with the Empire the victor, her Harbinger returned briefly to Whiterun before deeming Aela her temporary replacement and retreating to Falkreath hold. Aela was not one to let the hunt slip away and she followed her Harbinger to her home. The steward and housecarl greeted her warmly, likely due to her being brought up in casual conversation and Aela felt her heart buoyed by the thought. Her Harbinger was a polite woman and she greeted Aela in kind, despite her obvious irritation at her self-imposed exile being broken. Aela did not make demands; she merely requested a desk and a bed to aid her Harbinger. Knowing that as a renowned leader her Harbinger couldn't refuse, and so Aela was given a guest room downstairs. The housecarl and steward lived in a small house next to the manor; a gift built to give them their own privacy and autonomy. That kindness would be a boon and a curse in time as it meant that Aela and her secret love would spend most of their time together.

Aela would not tread underfoot of her Harbinger, but she made sure that wolf and manmeri both knew that she was there should she be needed. Her Harbinger was a perceptive female and she chafed under the silent support and the quiet demand for understanding. Her manner grew biting and short, yet Aela bore her dour moods with grace and patience. Her prey was cornered; she would let her tire herself out before she claimed her prize. Finally the normally gentle Harbinger could bear it no longer and she lashed out at Aela with anger in her voice, though she kept the Thu'um restrained. Aela held a tight leash upon her wolf, keeping her temper even as she countered the frenzied anger until her Harbinger's true pain spilled forth.

Aela held the older woman as she lamented the cruelty of the world, hating the ugly greed of war, the ambition of the few easily destroying the lives of the many. She raged even at her very existence, dismayed that she lived when so many she cared for had gone to the lands of their gods. She hurt with bitter loneliness and ennui and the wolf within Aela howled, desperate to comfort her. Aela stroked her face and cleared away her tears, carefully offering gentle licks and warm nuzzles until her beloved fell asleep within her arms. She carried her Harbinger to her chambers and undressed her to her small clothes before removing her own attire and laying them down together beneath warm furs.

Aela slept in the nude and she didn't alter this just because her beloved lay within her embrace, yet she found herself wishing for the barrier of clothing as she felt warm hands stroking her flank. She had no intentions to take advantage of her Harbinger's fragile emotional state but she found herself purring provocatively and her body responding eagerly to the chaste touch. Gathering all of her strength, Aela stroked her Harbinger's hair before rising from the bed and gathering her clothes. Tossing out a mumbled excuse the Huntress took to the lush forest that surrounded the Harbinger's estate and she began to hunt for their morning repast. Aela tried not to preen as she brought back a buck nearly twice her size, even as three mouths dropped in shock. The steward and housecarl quickly dressed the beast and offered Aela the hide and antlers as trophies.

The Harbinger apologized for her behavior, a wasted gesture in Aela's opinion but she accepted it to ease the other woman's guilt. After a time things began to return to the way it had been between them. They hunted and spared together and the wolf within howled and snarled, desperate for more. When her Harbinger gifted her a new dagger of ebony with a hilt made from part of the antlers of the buck she'd hunted, she stared at the princely gift, wondering if her Harbinger knew what such a thing meant to a Nord woman and werewolf. Finally Aela could stand it no longer and one evening when her Harbinger returned to her rooms, she found Aela there, the Amulet of Mara around her neck and nothing else. Aela would not be afraid of a lover long dead, she would stake her heart on claiming her mate and accept whatever answer she gave. Aela spoke plainly of her love and affection and she offered herself completely to one she knew she would live and die for…if only she accepted her proposal.

Her Harbinger had been hesitant, but not for the reasons Aela had expected. She cited her age and the fact that she was an outsider to Skyrim, wondering if such a thing was something that Aela could accept in a wife. It was one thing to take a lover, but another to take a wife. Like the Nords, the Harbinger had not been raised with a concept of divorce; if she married it would truly be for life. Aela reached out and stroked the fingers of the one she adored, knowing that the Orcish display of affection would arouse her faster than an ardent kiss, and she was rewarded with a blushing face and a snarling growl that Aela felt reverberate throughout her entire body. Delighted at the response, Aela led her intended to her bed where she undressed her with slow adoration. When her Harbinger's beautiful, powerful form was revealed, Aela let out a growl of her own. Caressing her hands once more before pulling away, Aela took to the blood and bounded out the balcony doors.

Knowing her intended would not resist following, the russet pelted werewolf loped gleefully into the woods. Finally, after so long the Wolf's Dance had come to her. The term was apt as it truly was a dance; they chased each other, never moving too far from sight, circling and leaping and nipping and growling. In time, Aela led her beloved to the den she had prepared… the final gift that one of the blood gave to their beloved. Aela lay her beloved upon the soft nest of furs made from the kills she made while on her beloved's territory, and she gave herself completely to the one that made her restless wolf grow still and content. Throughout the night they came to know one another intimately both as moonborn and in mortal flesh. When finally they lay spent, curled within each other's arms, Aela made a promise in her heart, that she would love and protect this female until Hircine himself called her for the hunt.

When they awoke, Aela steeled her heart, preparing for the final test. She asked about the love token still woven within her beloved's hair. Nadira's eyes widened in shock but she didn't move to remove the treasured item. Still, her love was honorable and she spoke with a steady and clear voice. She spoke of a love that had been nurtured from childhood, and Aela had not been surprised to have her assumptions about the race of the lost lover confirmed. Nadira gave affection: touching, caressing, nuzzling and licking like an Orc, because her lost beloved had been of Orismer blood. Of course as those that were moonborn shared similar features, mouths that could tear and rend delicate flesh, Aela could match the ardor and love play of her beloved with ease.

Her intended's lost beloved had been a smith and a warrior of great skill with a great hammer and two blades. They'd apprenticed together under the Dragonborn's Redguard mother, Aela smiled as the easy signs of her proud and beautiful heritage were seen with her watchful eyes. In time friendship grew into love and they promised to wed. However the Great War struck and the Orc enlisted, with the hope of safeguarding the Empire and in turn her beloved. She was a fierce warrior and she survived many campaigns but the Empire could not hold back the might of the Dominion and in time even she fell in battle. To the young Dragonborn's great horror, the unit her intended had been in had been on the way to Chorrol for supplies and downtime when they intercepted a Thalmor regiment on the way to sack the city. The fallen female had indeed given her life as she'd intended, protecting the life of the female she loved.

Distraught at the lack of contact, her beloved Harbinger had left the safety of the city to meet the company, only to find the carnage of a battle hard fought. She found her beloved on the battlefield, near death but too far gone for her developing magika skills to aid her. With a heavy heart, the only thing she could do was end the suffering of her love quickly. She watched her die, telling her of how she loved her, holding her dulling gaze until the light faded from her eyes. She had intended to turn her blade upon herself then, only to have her father, who'd trailed her in concern, take the weapon from her grief frenzied grip. She screamed and howled her loss until she lost her voice and fell into an exhausted slumber.

When she woke she could not eat and her room had been swept clean to keep her from harming herself. It was six moons until she was healthy enough to leave her room and even then she had been like a ghost. Yet her only solace was her smithy work…if only she had been a master smith, she could have forged an armor to save her love. The thought became an obsession and she surpassed her master with ease, yet her broken heart was not satisfied. Soon after she learned that the Thalmor bore a personal grudge with her family and her father and her aunt were killed at their hands.

The Dragonborn escaped with her mother, but they were hunted relentlessly, ironically enough the day the White Gold Concordat had been signed was the day that Thalmor hunters found them and slaughtered her mother. She could not best their attackers and had been forced to flee for her life. When she returned to bury her mother she found the only thing they had taken was her head…a massive affront in the Redguard culture. With a heavy heart, she burned her mother and buried her ashes and Aela realized what was in the vial that she kept in her pack. Her heart nearly shattered, her beloved gathered her belongings and wandered, avoiding patrols until eventually she ended up in Skyrim and under arrest for crossing the border illegally.

Aela wondered at the hardships her beloved had endured, even moreso considering that she bore the weight of destiny upon her soul crushed shoulders as well. How terrible it must have been to have lived a life of such pain only to find that the fate of Nirn rested upon her weary shoulders. Aela vowed once again that she would do whatever she could to ease the burden of her beloved, and she told her so with devotion gentling her voice. Her intended had been afraid that her story would cause Aela to reject her, and the huntress reminded her that she had offered herself freely. She thanked Talos for the lives that were nobly given and she wished them peace and good hunting in the lands of their gods. She asked that her love continue to honor the lives lost in honor and her only request that in addition to the token of her lost love in her hair that she wear the torc that had been passed down her mother's line for generations. Aela was not a callous woman, for such a noble sacrifice she could share her beloved's heart with the memory of the love she'd lost. They would make new memories together and one day the thought of love lost wouldn't hurt her so.

With joyful tears her beloved agreed and Aela proudly offered the white gold wolf's head torc to her love to wear about her strong arms. Aela put on her matching piece and drew her beloved to her once again. She spoke of her pride and love for the female in her arms and lay with her with joy and reverence. With reluctant hearts, they returned to the manor and told both housecarl and steward what had transpired. They endured good natured teasing about their roars of passion throughout the night, but aside from that, the others were pleased at their union. In her heart Aela felt they were wed, but she knew that her beloved would want to be joined before Mara.

They made plans but before they could enact them word of the World Eater's desperate plot came to her love's ears. Her mind could no longer focus upon the happiness of marriage and instead turned to the fate of the world. Aela knew she could do little more than offer support and succor; this was not a hunt that she could aid her beloved in. They parted with heavy hearts, and after a week's time, Aela returned to Whiterun to resume her duties personally. Due to the nature of her quest, her mate could not send her letters as before, knowing that Alduin's spies took many forms. So Aela waited and the wolf paced and worried and howled, wishing for the power to protect that which was hers. It took time but even the Heavens rang with the shouts of her mate's victory. The Savior of Skyrim returned battered and weary yet not unscathed. The accursed World Eater had pinned her in battle and attempted to crush her head with his mighty talons. The ebony and dragonbone helm had held mostly but not before caving in from the pressure, rending the flesh of her face. Aela had held that mangled, damaged helm in trembling hands for hours as her wounded mate slept, weeping at what she had nearly lost.

Her mate was not a maiden of vanity, but the loss of an eye and the scaring that marred her face from the damaged helm and dragonfire had made even her heart hesitant. Aela had been more concerned with her recovery and acclimation to the change of her sight, grateful to Hircine that her mate had been returned to her. Her worries had allowed her to miss the hesitant gaze that watched her, conjuring rejection when there was none, and she had no idea of the fear that began to poison her mate's strong wolf. Yet she found her beloved one pulling away, hesitant and filled with self-loathing. At first Aela had allowed it, thinking that her love would need her own counsel to recover. Yet when her mate tried to return her torc, stating that she need not bind herself to one so damaged Aela could only roar in fear and fury. She would not lose her mate, not after all it took to win her heart, not when the Destroyer of Worlds had nearly taken her away…

Losing herself to the blood, Aela pinned her mate to the floor of her room, and with fangs to her neck she demanded her submission. Once the wolf had gained the undivided attention of her misguided mate she told her of her love for her, that she was not a honorless, weak-oathed dog. Her mate had her love and loyalty always, and she would not allow her mate to mistake the need for her healing for revulsion for her form. Her beautiful, wondrous mate bore wounds earned saving everyone that Aela held dear, liberating the land and forests of her birth and she felt nothing but adoration and love. Allowing her persistent desire for her mate to shine through, the moonborn pulled her mate close, swearing that her yearning for her never faded in the slightest. Aela would not be put aside to allow another to take her place, and she would stand by her mate's side always. Certain that she'd proved her loyalty and love, the werewolf rended the troublesome clothes from her mate's form and proved her desire and passion until the small hours of the morning.

When her sated, assured mate awoke in her arms Aela spoke of the plans of Joining they had made before Alduin's last stand and once again asked her beloved one to join with her. Blushing at the gesture of proposing twice, but grateful that Aela was willing to make it, her mate also reaffirmed her vows of love and they agreed to be Joined as soon as possible. Of course when one is the Second of the Companions and the Savior of Skyrim among other titles, one doesn't have the control one hopes for over their own Joining. Jarls, Generals, Dadric Princes (including Hircine) even the Emperor requested – demanded really- the right to attend the Joining of two of the most influential people in Skyrim and Nirn. So much so that the wedding had to be held in the temple of the Eight. Aela fretted along with her love's numerous housecarls, worrying that the Thalmor might try to strike or that the Silver Hand may have enough remnants left for one last desperate offensive. The fears of daggers in the dark kept the fear of the Joining ceremony away from Aela's solitary heart.

Aela had no fear of becoming one within the eyes of her beloved, but the number of people and the pomp of the ceremony made even her formidable constitution quake in fear. Yet even though the day passed in a blur and there were far too many people in attendance, Aela the Huntress would swear that the first sight of her beloved mate as they strode towards each other was worth every hardship and discomfort she'd even endured. Her mate was so beautiful in a wedding robe that incorporated the twin aspects of her heritage even as her powerful bare arms displayed her torc. Aela wore a fine set of leathers, crafted from the den pelts of the Wolf Dance and her wolf strutted and preened as she saw a blush overcome her beloved's swarthy completion. Yet it was at that moment that the contentment that she always felt by her mate's side that overcame her. Be it in battle, in love play or in a hunt, Aela had never truly known peace until she'd given her heart to the one before her.

She could barely remember the words that were spoken in her overwhelmed disarray, but she swore her life, body and heart everlasting to her mate and she swooned as she heard the same, but it was when her mate began to sing in Redguard tradition that Aela thought she might faint from her joy. The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of exhilaration and contentment and in time the well-wishing guests and friends traveled on and Aela and her beloved returned to their manor in Faulkreath hold. Aela growled as her beloved darted from the wedding carriage and her grasp, dashing into the nearby forest. Following swiftly, the Huntress moaned as she found the clothing of her new bride discarded and the tracks of a werewolf leading from them. Returning to glory in the space of a breath, Aela tracked her mate, her heart buoyed at a second chance to enter into the Wolf's Dance.

As the Huntress gave chase she realized that she had been mistaken. The first taste, while intense, was nothing in comparison to the rush of the promise of a lifetime more. With a light heart and a burning soul, Aela the Huntress took to the Hunt of a Lifetime.

Love.

May Hircine protect them both.

* * *

As always this features my standard Dragonborn Nadira, who is a half Altmer, half Redguard female with raven hair.

4/2018 R. Niiyama

-I've tried not to call Nadira a woman as she is not an Adult Human Female, but if I've no idea the term that the Mer use to tell the difference between the sexes. Of course they would use a common term to accommodate the laziness and irreverence of the humans around them but I would think that Aela would respect the one she loved better than that.


End file.
